Scoundrel!
by oatmeal.cookie.luvr
Summary: It's set to be Ravenclaw Allison Wood's final year at Hogwarts, and she plans to go through it just like every other year-quietly and peacefully. To her disgruntlement, however, a certain rambunctious Gryffindor has other ideas. Sixth year James Sirius Potter rubs Allison the wrong way from the start, and despite all intentions and a giant castle , she keeps running into him..
1. Chapter 1

**Scroundel (Being a Tale of Allison Mae Wood and her exploits with one James Sirius Potter)**

The page gave a raw hiss as my hand guided it to the book's other cover. My face softened into a slight smile as I took in the words, the subtle language of deceit and sacrifice that its author tried to convey to me, the reader. I sat with my back to the window, knees tucked to my chest. Funny how in an empty compartment of the Hogwarts Express, en route to one of the most prestigious schools of magic in the world, I was lost in a world of cell phone break-ups and the all-important Friday night football game.

This morning had been as chaotically hectic as any first of September since I'd started at Hogwarts as a small, naïve first year; me stuffing all my possessions in the standard issue trunk last minute, my mother shrieking about her baby's last year of school, my father, manly wizard that he is, blinking back tears before I hastily Apparated into a supply closet at King's Cross. But now, here in this blissfully silent compartment, I heaved a great sigh of content and flipped another page.

"Fred, you rascal! Give that back!" There were sounds of a scuffle outside the compartment door. Something in me begged to throw open that door and give those scruffians a good talking to, but I couldn't bring myself to.

_Allison, some day you're gonna land yourself in a really bad situation and you won't be able to get out of it because of this stupid fear of talking to people._

"Say, 'please'!" called a second voice. The owner laughed uproariously at the first's muttered reply. "Language, Jamie! Wouldn't want me to write to Auntie and tell her what a bad boy you've been, and not even at Hogwarts yet!"

_Would you all just shut up!_ I raged silently, trying to block out the noise. I buried my nose further into my book.

"Just—Give me-!" Suddenly the compartment door flew open and two struggling boys stumbled in. They grappled with each other for a few moments before one came out on top. "Ha! You take that, Fred Weasley!" said the victor, triumphantly brandishing some worthless trinket.

"If you _quite_ mind," I finally snapped, though I didn't dare lower my book.

"Oh, sorry," said the second. "This prick's not acting 'is age very well, 'is 'e? I do apologize for 'im."

"No need to apologize for _me_, Freddie, m'boy! The one who should be apologizing for their companion is I, James Potter!"

There was a short pause, as if he was waiting for something. Then— "I, James Pot-!"

"I heard you the first time," I bit out.

The boy cocked his head to the side and brought his dark eyebrows together in a furrow. "I don't believe I've seen you around before. Are you a first-year?"

"…Is that supposed to be an insult?" I asked finally, dropping my book with a soft thump on to my lap. I fixed him with my best intimidating glare (which wasn't very scary at all).

"Oh," he said as he took in my clearly not 11-year-old face. "Sorry, I guess."

I took a good look at the intruder. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had a long face and prominent amber eyes. A pair of rectangular glasses was perched on top of his headful of unkempt, messy jet-black hair. His mouth was stretched in a strange half-smile.

"Apology accepted," I sniffed, returning to my book.

"Mind if we sit here for a bit? Our compartment is pretty packed, and this is, well, practically empty," said the second boy. He was just as tall as the first, if not taller, with skin the color of chocolate milk, a wide spread of freckles, and dark eyes alight with mischief. His hair was a mahogany blonde, a stark contrast to his dark skin.

I winced at his words. Just another reminder of being alone. "Since I'm _practically_ not here…" I answered, gesturing with a free hand to the empty seats across from me.

"Sweet," he said, promptly plopping himself down. "I'm Fred Weasley, by the way. And you've met James."

_Oh, I've _met _James_, I thought sarcastically. "Mhm-hm."

"Okay then…" Fred muttered, put out by my lack of reply.

An hour or two was spent in this fashion, until the compartment door slid open yet again and in came a tall, willowy girl, with hair so blond it was nearly white. "Well, it's safe to say that Ackerly Campbell has not changed mentally or physically since fourth year," she said, tossing back her long hair over her shoulder. "Oh—sorry," she added, seeing Fred and James.

"You definitely do not have to apologize," I said into my book. "You're not interrupting _anything_."

"Well, maybe learning some conversational skills would help…" James muttered at the window.

The blonde blinked. "Wow, what ever happened to having respect for your elders?"

James snorted. "There is no way this chick—" he gestured flamboyantly towards me—"is older than me."

"Unless you were held back a year… or two… or five… I'm most certainly older than you," I told him, more comfortable now that I had a friend around. "Mr.-Sixth Year."

"You're a _seventh year_?" he said incredulously.

"I don't think I can quite hear your disbelief," I winced, sticking a finger in my ear. "Anyway, Elli—where is everyone?"

By everyone else, I meant most of the people that made up my everyday life at Hogwarts—that is to say, my roommates.

"Oh, right. Scharkey and Holly found a compartment with a couple guys from Hufflepuff. Scarlett is still at the meeting, I think."

"Of course," I muttered. Boy-crazy, the lot of them. "What about Amber?"

"Right here," came a voice from behind Elli. "You'd think this gargantuan would realize she should let us vertically-challenged folk be in the front."

"I'm not even that tall!" Elli complained.

A curly-haired, pixie-like blond pushed her way in front of Elli. "You're like 5'10". That's more than 8 inches taller than me!" she pointed out, hands on her hips. "Aaaand there are strange people in this compartment. Allison, what _have_ you gotten yourself into? You naughty girl."

"I am graciously offering this space _temporarily_ to these children," I said airily, gesturing to the two boys.

"Elizabeth Clay," introduced the tall blonde.

"Amber Ross," said the shorter one.

"Fred Weasley," Fred offered.

"James Potter, at your service," added James.

"Ruffians extraordinaire, I assure you," I said, rolling my eyes.

James bristled. "I resent that. To save face, I shall retire from this unworthy venture," he huffed. That being said, he sprang up and left, dragging Fred with him. I noticed idly that the back of his neck and the tips of his ears had gone red.

As they left, Amber turned her big blue eyes toward me. "A younger man… two of them in fact. Allison, you cougar…!"

"Better looking than Campbell, anyway," Elli mused.

"Shut it, both of you," I ordered. "Now, who finished the summer homework?"

Rain fell down in sheets from the dark sky as people dashed to and fro, frantically searching for empty carriages and shelter from the relentless storm. Beside me, Elli covered her head with her arms. "Wonderful!" she yelled sarcastically over the roar of the crowd. I just stood there and let the rain wash over me, not caring that water was seeping into my shoes.

There was something so enchanting about rain; you can run, you can seek shelter, you can jump in puddles and splash cold water everywhere as you see fit, or you can stand and just take it: eyes closed, face upturned, the roar of millions of tiny droplets of water setting off to war, your skin being turned to liquid.

Amber appeared at my elbow. "Holly's found an empty carriage over there!" she shouted, pointed to the right. "Scarlett's already there!"

Elli led the way through the throng of people. I tripped over someone's foot and landed on my knees in a puddle. Wincing at the pain, I got up and realized that I'd been left behind. "Shit," I muttered, looking around helplessly. Somehow through the confusion, I spotted a black-haired Asian girl standing on her tiptoes trying to see above the crowded. "Scharkey!" I called, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her with me in the direction Amber had been pointing.

One way or another, we managed to reach the carriage and threw ourselves inside, finally finding some refuge from the rain and hapless students. "God!" Scharkey exclaimed, flicking water from her hair with her wand. "If I wasn't so freaking nice I would have hexed every single one of those idiots!"

"Yeah, you're definitely too nice," I muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing…" Despite being Japanese (a race having somehow gained the reputation of being docile and well-mannered) Elisabeth Scharkey had a short rein on her temper. Maybe I was better than her in spell casting, but the Muggle-born girl had a third-degree black belt.

"Where are Amber and Elli?" asked the girl sitting across from us. She was small and thin-boned, with sharp, pointy features, accentuated by blonde hair that was cut just past her ears. Next to her was a second girl, dirty blonde, whose cheeks were red in a permanent flush.

"Got separated," I answered shortly, still a little out of breath. "How the hell are you two so dry?"

"Drying spell," she said, rolling her eyes. "Here-,"

She took out her wand and pointed it in my direction. Instantly my robes began to steam. "Thanks, Holly," I said, closing my eyes in pleasure. "Hey, Scarlett," I added. "How was the meeting?"

"Okay, I guess," Scarlett replied, shrugging. "Kind of boring. Anthony Marwick totally took over. Barely even let Molly Weasley talk. He's totally lording it over me that he's a Head now and I'm not."

"Oh, well. You know Anthony; if he could have been Head Girl as well as Head Boy, you know he would've done it," I said.

Holly let loose a snort. "I really think he would've!"

"Who would've done what?" asked a soaked Elli. She and Amber had finally joined us. "How the hell did you get here before us?" she asked me.

"Anthony Marwick," Scarlett answered.

"Anthony Marwick got Allison here before us? What, is he some kind of time god?" Elli sputtered.

"Because that's the logical interpretation," I said, rolling my eyes.

Elli opened her mouth, about to deliver some blood-curdling retort, when the carriage gave a jolt and began to roll forward. "Ah, finally," she sighed instead.

"I am so starving," Scarlett inserted. She raised her arms above her head and arranged her face in a stern manner, exactly imitating Headmistress McGonagall. "Let the Hogwarts feast begin!"

* * *

"Kamerer, Carlton!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Boo!" Scharkey mumbled in my ear.

"Why, I never!" I huffed, trying and failing to keep the grin from stretching across my face. "If you must know, I have some very good friends in Slytherin!"

"Wai, Abbie!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Wow, the Sorting Hat's pretty efficient this year," Holly noted. "Hardly any hesitation."

"Weasley, Roxanne!"

"…" The silence rang painfully through the anxious hall.

"Way to jinx it, Holly!" Scarlett hissed. "And we were almost done, too!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Of course," Scharkey commented. "What other choice could there be?"

"There are Weasleys not in Gryffindor," I said absentmindedly. My eyes were on the Gryffindor table, where Fred Weasley was standing up and pounding his little sister on the back as she sat down next to him, grinning from ear to ear. James Potter held up his empty goblet and faked giving a toast to her, making her blush and stare down at the table.

"Yeah, take Rose Weasley for example," Scarlett cut in. She pointed down the table at the red-haired fifth-year, yapping away to that Veela cousin of hers… Luke? Lewis?

"Oh, right. But her brother's in Gryffindor isn't he? Hugh or whatever?"

"Wasn't it Harvey?"

"It's Tarquin, I thought."

"Oh, that's right."

"Oh, look! The last one!"

We all craned our necks to look at the lone first year still waiting to be Sorted. When "Yonan, Kenneth" went to Ravenclaw, we cheered loudly, not just because he was one of us now.

At the head table, Professor McGonagall got up gingerly and slowly, very slowly, gestured for silence. "Ahem! Ahem. If I may deliver a few announcements… Mr. Ruppenthal would like me to remind you all that Defenestrating Gargoyles have been added to the Confiscation List, as are all Weasley Wizarding Wheezes products. The full list may be viewed in his office on the second floor… Also, the Forbidden Forest is _still_ forbidden to all students at all times. This means you, Mr. Potter—" Everyone knew she meant the elder brother, not the younger—"_No_ exceptions. Thirdly, the Astronomy Tower is now off limits after dark without teacher supervision."

Scarlett chuckled at that. "Like _that's_ gonna stop any lovesick couples," she whispered. "I know for a fact that they can be very determined…"

"Oh, ew!" Holly said. "Scarlett, you're a prefect!"

"So?"

"_So_-!"

"And now, without further ado… let the feast begin!"

A great cheer arose from the students as food magically appeared on the plates in front of them and the shiny golden goblets were filled with pumpkin juice. "Ye-es!" Scarlett moaned, immediately making grabs for the chicken legs and mashed potatoes at the same time.

"Pass the marmalade, would you?" Amber asked me, holding up a roll.

I reached for the container, but someone else got there first. Our hands brushed, and, shivering from the contact, I recoiled and withdrew. "Oh, sorry," said Matt Edwards, offering it to me.

"Oh, no, that's okay—you go ahead," I told him; I couldn't not quite look him in the eye. He shrugged and went along his business.

"Thanks a lot," Amber muttered.

"Oh—sorry, Amber," I said. "Go ask Holly for the one by her elbow."

She huffed and turned away from me.

I reached for a roll myself and dropped it when a voice next to my ear said," Your face is red." It was Elli, grinning from ear to ear.

"It's hot in here," I said uncomfortably.

"He's cute, in a monkey-ish sort of way."

"He does not look like a monkey!" I snapped.

"Oh, so you know what he looks like? You could hardly look at him."

I picked up my roll and tore a piece off with my teeth. "I am no longer speaking to you," I informed her. "You hear me? This is me not speaking to you."

She laughed gently. "You should talk to him," she said. "He's looking at you."

"He's what?" I jerked my head in his direction. Sure enough, he was gazing at me. When our eyes met, he smiled slightly and raised his eyebrows before turning away. I don't know what my face did—probably melted, solidified, and melted again in some sort of soppy grin.

"Wow, I am so glad I know you," she told me, laughing some more and slapping me on the back.

"Oh, go eat your turnips," I said indignantly, and stuffed a large spoonful of mashed potatoes into my mouth. I closed my eyes briefly in bliss before digging in some more.

Half an hour or so later, the food disappeared, much to the Scarlett's disappointment (I swear, that girl has _two_ hollow legs). The Headmistress got up again. "You are dismissed to your dormitories! First-years, please locate your House Prefects, they will ensure that you do not get lost!"

Scarlett immediately stood up and started calling for first-years.

"Let's go," Holly said. We stood up and began making our way out of the Great Hall.

"Oof," I said, squished between a burly fourth-year and the wall. _Rock and a hard place, indeed_, I groaned mentally. I pushed through them and starting climbing the Grand Staircase two steps at a time in an effort to get away from the crowd. Upon reaching the fifth floor, I took an immediate left down a dark hallway. I ducked under a low opening onto a tightly spiraling staircase. Light flickered from torches set up the walls. At the top, I paused at an immense door decorated with a giant, eagle-shaped bronze knocker.

"What are you waiting for?" panted Scharkey behind me. Her round, slanted eyes glinted in the torchlight. She reached around me and gave the knocker a sharp tap.

The eagle's beak opened creakily and from it came a woman's calm, soothing voice.

"_What is the origin of magic?"_

"Oh, God…" Scharkey sighed.

"Nothing," I answered quietly after a moment. "Magic _is _the origin."

"_Well put_," said the voice.

"Nice one," Scharkey said.

The knocker's beak closed and the door swung open, revealing a large, airy room decorated by blue and bronze silk curtains.

Tall, arched windows were set into the walls of stone and were accented by various statues of assorted philosophers and inventors. Fat, comfortable armchairs and small, sturdy wooden tables were spread around a huge granite fireplace. Numerous thick, midnight blue carpets covered the shining wood floor. A marble staircase led to a round, wide balcony—more like a mini-library—from which protruded two spiral staircases. Every inch of wall not covered by paintings or hangings bore towering wooden bookcases. As I stepped in, I took a deep breath and tipped my head back, inhaling the faint scent of lavender and catching a glimpse of the domed ceiling, painted with stars to look like the night sky.

"Welcome home," I said to myself.

* * *

**[A/N: Yeah, I know this is yet another new story while I have yet to complete my other ones... But it was my New Year's Resolution to finish a story (yes, just one-I have this problem with finishing through with _anything_) and I've decided to do this one. Plus I have a crap load more already written :) I'm just editing it.**

**So tell me what you guys think! I know there's not much James, but there will be soon. The great thing about writing Next Generation is that you can make up practically EVERYTHING, so I'm experimenting with a lot of ideas. But the only way I get any feedback is from reviews, so please don't hesitate.**

**Over and out!]  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N: So I've had this sitting around on my computer for a while now, but I haven't been able to put it up because my dad went and switched out my monitor and I couldn't figure out how to turn it on :( Seriously! That button is the master ninja!]**

**[A little review of the characters presented thus far, in order of introduction...**

**-Allison Wood: main character. Long wavy brown hair, hazel eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-James Potter: male lead. Tall and broad-shouldered, with messy black hair and amber eyes. Refuses to wear his glasses properly. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**-Fred Weasley: a cousin of James'. Tall and gangly, and a spread of freckles and light brown hair despite his dark skin. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**-Elizabeth Clay: a dorm-mate and best friend of Allison's. Tall and willowy blonde, grey eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Amber Ross: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Small, pixie-like blonde, bright blue eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Elisabeth Scharkey: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Expressive, bad-tempered girl of Asian descent. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Holly Williams: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Thin, sharp-featured blonde, green eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Scarlett O'Riley: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Prefect. Ruddy-faced dirty blonde. Seventh year Ravenclaw. **

**-Antony Marwick: a house-mate of Allison's. Head Boy. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Molly Weasley: a cousin of James and Fred's. Head Girl. Seventh year Gryffindor.**

**-Roxanne Weasley: a cousin of James and Molly's, sister to Fred. First year Gryffindor.**

**-Rose Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Luke/Lewis/Louis Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, Roxanne, and Rose's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Hugh/Harvey/Tarquin/Hugo Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's, brother to Rose. Third year Gryffindor.**

**-Minerva McGonagall: Headmistress.**

**-Mr. Ruppenthal: Caretaker.**

**-Matt Edwards: an attractive house-mate of Allison's. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**... Okay so maybe not so little :D]**

Scoundrel Chapter Two

Someone, or something was prodding me hard in the shoulder. "Allison…"

"The fuck…" I groaned, flipping onto my other side in an effort to evade the prodding.

I could hear light breathing by my ear, the warm air gently tickling the hairs on my neck. "Allison… sweetheart… GET THE FUCK UP!"

"Merlin's stale pumpkin wafers!" I yelled, shooting straight up. I groped around for my wand and waved it blindly in the air.

"Honey that's a very dangerous quill you're tossing about," said Amber, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. She handed me a pair of glasses. "Now get out of bed before I _Avada Kedavra_ that insufferable _creature_ of yours!"

"His name is Doonkles!" I told her indignantly, taking the glasses and shoving them on. I blinked as my blurry vision suddenly cleared. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small, dark animal swing from the royal blue curtains of my four-poster bed onto my shoulder. The furry thing resembled a miniature monkey about the size of my head, but whiskers sprouted from his muzzle and his ears were long curved like a wild cat's. Dark green stripes crisscrossed through his otherwise gray fur. As Amber scolded me, the creature opened his mouth and hissed, revealing long, sharp fangs.

"I _don't care_ what his name is! What I do care is that for the five years you've had him, you still haven't found out what _it _is, exactly!"

"I'm at Hogwarts," I said suddenly.

"Yes, dear, so go use that famous library of ours to-,"

"I'M AT HOGWARTS!" I screamed, jumping out of bed and performing some kind of wild jig on the cold wood floor. After several long seconds of impromptu interpretive dance, I stopped cold, panting. "That must've been _the_ best sleep I've ever had," I mused.

"You say that every year," Elli commented, walking in through the door. A toothbrush still hung from her mouth, and a damp towel was slung over one shoulder. Her wet hair hung around her face like blond vines.

"How are you such a morning person," I asked her. I couldn't even get up by myself.

"How do you still claim to not be one after _that_, I ask you," said Amber, rolling her eyes. "Now come on, class starts in an hour and I assume you want _some_ sustenance."

One hour… sixty minutes… 3600 seconds!

"Right," I decided. "Shower time." I walked quickly around the numerous beds, some messy and some made in pristine fashion, dodged the large metal heater in the middle of the room, and ducked into the common baths. There were three showers and two toilets, but I knew that earlier in the morning there had been a vicious, bloody scramble to get in first; Ravenclaw had seven seventh year girls, all ferociously determined. Another reason why I might as well wait the storm out.

I used the bathroom mirror to put in the miniature lenses that I used instead of glasses (Muggles call them contacts—pure genius) into my eyes. Then, after a quick and _very_ hasty soap 'n' rinse, I danced back into the dormitory and opened the trunk that I'd found at the base of my bed last night after the feast. I dug around for a bit and managed to produce a reasonably clean set of robes, a rather wrinkled shirt, a gray pleated skirt, a very comfy looking sweater…

…And only one shoe.

"Where," I half-yelled to no one in particular, "is my other shoe!" I threw on the collared shirt (no one would see the wrinkles if I just kept my sweater on) and zipped up the skirt. "I mean, who-," I found an already knotted tie and tossed it under my collar- "packs an odd shoe without its other half!" I pulled the sweater over my head.

I rummaged some more in my trunk, but to no end. Finally in my frustration, I whipped out my wand and jabbed it at the lone shoe. "_Geminio!_" Instantly an identical shoe, albeit slightly smoking, lay next to the original. I tugged the shoes on and smoothed down my sweater.

Turning to the mirror hung on the back of the dormitory door, I saw my still wet dangling locks and frowned. "_Exaresco_," I said. My hair immediately began to steam as the condensation left it. I leaned in closer to check the makeup I'd applied in the bathroom. "Hm," I said, wiping away a smudge of mascara. I used to condone makeup completely, but in the past year or so I'd begun to feel a little… bland compared to all the other girls. And who says bookworms can't care about their looks?

"Allison!" called Amber from downstairs. "You have twenty-five minutes for breakfast! And then we still have to come back after we get our schedules!"

"Yes, Mum!" I yelled back. I dragged a brush through my now-dry hair rapidly, and after some thought, drew it up in a hasty ponytail. I grabbed the robes from my bed before throwing open the dormitory door and dashing down into the common room.

Breakfast was a chaotic event, first-years running all over the place with their new friends and everyone else trying to eat, get their schedules, and make it to their common rooms and back in time for the first class.

"Ah, Wood," said Professor Rousch, catching me at a bad time with a piece of toast dangling from my mouth.

I coughed and gently set the toast down. "Yes, Professor?"

"For some reason, this was not delivered with your letter this summer. Congratulations." The shiny object he offered me… it wasn't…

"Oh my God," said Scharkey, coming up behind me. "Allison, you're Quidditch Captain?"

I couldn't answer her; my mouth was too busy opening and closing silently like a fish's.

"She graciously accepts," Elli told Rousch, taking the badge from him. "Thank you, Professor."

"Ah, well…" he said doubtfully, still looking at my expression. "Your, ah, schedule, as well, Miss Wood…"

"Thanks," Elli said sweetly, taking that as well. She waited until he had made it an acceptable distance away before turning to me and squealing, "You're Quidditch Captain!"

"Quidditch…" I said hoarsely.

"Yes, dear," she answered nervously. "Quidditch, the noble sport you love so much? The Ravenclaw team whose star Keeper you've been for the past four years?"

"Fucking Quidditch Captain," I whispered slowly, relishing the words in my mouth. Slowly, as if through water, I took the badge from Elli's hand and pinned it to my robes. "I'm the fucking Quidditch Captain! Holy shit!"

"_Miss Wood! _Language, if you would!" snapped a passing McGonagall.

"Oh, I wood indeed," I said, a wicked grin spreading across my face. "HA! YOU TAKE THAT, STEPHEN STROUPE!" I screamed down the table, leaning over so far that my robes were on the edge of being soaked in pumpkin juice. A blonde boy ten seats down jerked and spun around in his seat. "FEAST YOUR EYES ON THIS SHIELD OF GLORY!"

He rolled his eyes and tossed his hair. "Well, of course. Everyone knows that I was the first choice for Captain, but I thought I'd give you _something_."

"WHY YOU!" I shouted. I made to leap onto the table so I could march right down it and pummel that sorry face of his.

"_MISS WOOD!_" McGonagall shouted. She fixed me with an ice-cold glare as I slowly shrunk back down into my seat. "I understand your enthusiasm, but you don't want to get a detention the first day back do you?"

Silently I shook my head.

"Very good then," she said finally.

"Where is Nick Riggins," I said excitedly, looking frantically around the Great Hall. "I can't believe he hasn't been over here yet to show off his-,"

"Allison-," Scharkey began.

"Riggins!" I yelled, finally spotting the pompous prat, sitting all alone at the end of the Gryffindor table. I headed his way, gesturing madly. "Riggins, you won't believe it—oh."

He looked up morosely, his glum expression only partially hidden from the mass of brown locks covering his face. His robes were plain and bare.

"Oh, Nick," I whispered, sliding into the seat across from him. "How…?"

"I always knew I wasn't cut out for Captain," he started, looking back down at his hands clasped in front of his on the wood surface of the table. "But I still… it still stung."

"It's not Banks, is it?" I asked, horrified, naming another seventh year on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The Gryffindor Seeker, Lena Banks was good, and she knew it—and often felt the need to inform others of this.

"No, its-,"

"Nick! Hey, Nick, I really need to talk to—holy shit!" The new voice rose several octaves as the owner of which spotted me.

"You stole the words right out of my mouth," I said drily, turning to face the oncoming messy-haired terror. "The fuck do you want? I'm trying to talk to Riggins here."

James leaned protectively around Nick. "Whatever you want with my mate Nick… you're gonna have to go through me first."

Nick twisted around in his seat. "James-,"

"Shh, shh. I got your back. Ain't no way this crazy lady is gonna have her way with you. Once she's got you, she won't let go."

I stiffened. "Why don't you go out and buy some respect for strangers," I said coldly. "Don't pretend like you know me, Potter, when we only just met yesterday." I eyed the shiny Captain's badge I'd just noticed on his chest. "And while you're out, stop by the bookstore and pick up a copy of _Tact for Trolls_."

I stood up with a huff and marched from the Great Hall.

As I was leaving, I heard James say, "Hey, did you know her or something? Sorry if I interrupted something…"

I stormed up the cool stone stairs to the Ravenclaw Tower. _"What is broken upon mention?_" the cool voice of the knocker asked.

"Silence," I snapped. The door pushed open and I rushed inside. "Fuck," I moaned quietly as I looked at my watch. I had ten minutes to get to—I checked my timetable—Defense Against the Dark Arts. _Double_ Defense Against the Dark Arts.

I took the steps to my dorm two at a time. Upon reaching my bed, I snatched my bag from the floor and stuffed in _Confronting the Faceless_, a couple of quills, a roll of parchment and a half-empty bottle of ink, then dashed back down to the common room and out the entrance.

"Where'd you run off to?" asked Elli as I slipped into the seat next to her just as the bell rang.

"Went over to chat with Riggins," I muttered under my breath as Professor Rausch walked into the classroom. "He's not Quidditch Captain."

"What?" she hissed in surprise, half-turning. "Who-?"

"Tell you later," I said out of the corner of my mouth as the teacher gave me an appraising look.

"Welcome back, everyone," the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor began. He'd taken a piece of chalk and was now drawing thin, shaky lines on the blackboard at the front of the room. "Please take out your quills and some parchment. We'll begin with a nice, easy review essay on the proper handling and uses of the phooka…"

* * *

"Merlin, you overachieving bastard," I told myself as I dragged myself out of Greenhouse 3. I winced when I stepped with my left leg; a Fanged Geranium had escaped the student working next to me and decided that an Allison sounded pretty tasty. "Why do I even take any classes? It's not like they're gonna do any good."

"Because you don't know what you're going to do with your life," Elli answered for me, falling into step beside me.

"Why are _you _down here?" I half-snarled. "You dropped Herbology after famously declaring that green things made your hair stand on end."

"Just came from a free period," she said. "Actually, I was looking for Scharkey… Joey Brunswick asked me to give her this." She held up a folded bit of parchment and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"It's just the first day back!" I cried, outraged. "SCHARKEY!" I called, turning towards the greenhouse. I continued to walk backwards. "STOP BEING SO ATTRACTIVE!"

"CAN'T HELP IT, SORRY!" a muted voice said from inside.

I laughed. "OR MAYBE EVERYONE JUST HAS AN ASIAN FETI—_oof!_" I collided hard with something and fell towards the floor, only to be caught by a pair of soft, warm, _muscled_ arms.

"It's true, Asians have this unique quality about them," James Potter mused aloud, smirking down at me. "But there's a special place in my heart for brunettes."

I slapped his arms away. "Please, spare me your arrogant quips." Straightening my robes, I bent to pick my bag up off the floor.

"Admit it, my presence thaws your cold, frozen chest." He crossed his arms, still wearing that insufferable smirk.

"That would be lying," I told him. "Now shove off, before I curse all your DHT-converters."

He gaped at me. "My—what?"

I gave him a strange look. "Dihydrotestosterone? Your hair follicles will shrink if there's too much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You'll go bald," Elli told him. She turned to me. "I'll meet you at dinner?"

"Oh, I won't be long," I said, startled. "I just need to get this kid off my back."

"I'm not a _kid_," James muttered.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Let's go, Elli."

"Wait!" cried James suddenly. "I—I need to talk to you."

I turned to look at his face. His eyes were wide and sincere. I nodded at Elli to leave. "This better be good," I said curtly.

"Listen," he began. He drew a hand from his pocket and started tapping it on his leg in a rapid-fire rhythm. "I—I'm sorry. For what I said to you at breakfast."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"It's just—I just do that when…"

"Do what, exactly?" I asked.

He blushed. The red spread all the way to his ears. "Act stupid, I mean. I can't help but be stupid around pretty girls I don't know."

In my shock, I must've made a strange noise, because all of a sudden his blush intensified and his fingers started going at a dangerous pace. "I mean-! 'Cuz you're pr-pretty pretty, and I only just met you, and I just want you to like me, and now I'm telling you stuff you probably don't need to know, and-,"

"Stop." I held up a hand. This conversation was not gonna go there. "Apology accepted."

"Oh, good," James said, looking relieved. He put his hands backs in his pockets. "So, uh… I'll see you around, then?"

"Yeah," I answered slowly. "Yeah. Around." Abruptly I spun on my heel and speedwalked all the way to the Great Hall.

"Your face is red," Scarlett informed me, her own as red as ever, as I plopped down in the seat across from her.

"It's hot in here," I muttered, grabbing the mashed potatoes.

* * *

**[A/N: I apologize for the lack of plot. Honestly, I'm still figuring out where I'm going with this… I have scenes planned out in my head, but no actual structure to any of them. I'll try harder though!]**


	3. Chapter 3

October.

"Urg," I said, struggling to pin a piece of paper to the common room bulletin board. Suddenly a pair of warm arms enveloped my head.

"Here," a low voice murmured, attaching the notice firmly.

"Thanks," I said, turning to stand face-to-face Matt Edwards. His nose was only about 1.57 inches from my own. "Oh!"

"Sorry," he grinned, taking a step back. He surveyed the notice board. The aforementioned note read _Ravenclaw Quidditch Team Try-out Sign-sup Sheet (date to be announced). _"Quidditch tryouts, already?"

"Yeah," I managed, staring determinedly at a spot over his—broad—shoulder. "You trying out?"

"Me? Oh, no," Edwards chuckled. "A little late in the spell, I think, for me. I was never any good anyway." He looked directly into my eyes and smiled.

"Ah, well," I said. Not everyone has what it takes, I suppose.

"I'm actually quite fond of the Muggle sport football, though," he continued. A black-and-white sphere came to my mind. "No chance of falling 300 hundred feet up."

A weak chuckle escaped from my mouth. Then I ducked my head and hurried back up to my dorm. I paused just outside the seventh-year dorm and laid a hand on the cool stone of the wall, trying to round up my runaway thoughts and shove them back in the kennel.

Matt Edwards was a fellow seventh year Ravenclaw. Tall, athletic (though he'd never made the Quidditch team) and good-looking, he was one of the most sought after blokes in the school. Every time I saw him in the hallway, talking and laughing with Theodore Wisz or Benedict Mauceri, my heart delivered a tempting case about punching through my chest wall. Today he'd worn a cream sweater coupled with red slacks. That sweater had looked soft…

I shook my head hard and reveled in the dark spots that consequently appeared in my vision, taking the opportunity to clear my head. I took a deep breath and proceeded into the dormitory.

As I had meditated on before, somehow Ravenclaw Tower had gotten the pleasure of housing not five, not six, but seven girls on a dark September night six years ago. You'd think we'd all be terribly crowded, but Hogwarts did not fail to produce; the circular room was enchanted to be bigger than what would seem physically possible. Nonetheless, I had jumped to claim a bed right next to the window.

Like the common room, the dorm room had an airy, large quality about it; the wide windows let loads of light in so the only lamps were very small and dim (which made moving about at night a little touching). Thick blue curtains draped around the seven four-poster beds, each of which had an accompanying dark-stained wooden bedside table and a white water basin.

"Hey, are Quidditch tryouts coming up soon?" asked Holly, sticking her head around the curtain of her four-poster bed. The action made the dark pink cylinders that dangled from her earlobes swing dangerously.

"Uh, yeah," I said, picking my way across the clothing-decorated floor. "Thinking of trying out?"

"Maybe," she answered coyly, smiling. "What's open?"

"Well, technically everything's open, except for Keeper of course," I told her. "I won't necessarily keep all of the returning people."

"What? But that's so mean!"

"It's understood," I tried to explain, finally flopping onto my sheets and propping my head up on a pillow. I rolled my head to the side and tracked a cloud moving across the blue sky through my window. "No new Captain should stick with their old team for old times' sake."

"Still," Holly mused aloud.

I flipped my hair out of my eyes and rotated on to my stomach. Fishing around my open trunk for a ponytail holder, I said, "Well, both our Beaters, our Seeker, and one of our Chasers left last year, so those are definitely empty."

After a moment, she finally said, "Well, I'll think about it." Then she grabbed her bag and flounced out, leaving me feeling a little annoyed at her small display of arrogance. Did she think that if she tried out, I would just put her on the team? I'd never seen her play, but I'd never seen Holly Williams fail at anything she did.

I shrugged and turned my mind to the more pressing matter at hand—literally, the small folded bit of parchment I'd just grabbed from my pillow. "Quidditch Captains meeting, 1 PM, in the staff room," I read it aloud. "…Merlin's little blue bra."

I plopped down on my bed to think. Though school had to have been in session for at least a month, the identities of the various Captains were still hotly guarded (and equally in temperature, debated) secrets. With me as Ravenclaw Captain and Potter (ugh) as Gryffindor's, there was still Slytherin and Hufflepuff to consider; Darius Calvios was a sure bet for Slytherin, as he had been Captain last year. But the case of Hufflepuff's captain was a mystery. Actually, most of Hufflepuff's team would be a mystery, I realized, as more than half the members graduated last year. "Sucks to your ass-mar, Hufflepuff," I said aloud, smirking, then grimaced; _Lord of the Flies_ had never been a favorite of mine.

A growl from my stomach interrupted my musings. "If I don't eat right now I'll pass out in a dramatic fashion, puke up my nonexistent lunch, or both," I decided aloud, and hurried down to the Great Hall.

"Hi," Elli greeted me shortly as I sat down next to her. She absently began to mix her mashed potatoes and jell-o with her knife.

"Uh, hi?" I said, giving her a strange look. "What's with you?" She sighed and shook her head. "Okay then…"

I glanced at my watch. "Agh, gotta run," I told her, pushing myself up and grabbing a couple bread rolls. "Quidditch Captains' meeting." Elli remained silent. "Uh, catch you later?" Bemused, I gave myself a mental shake and walked off.

Outside the staff room, I nervously stuffed a bit of bread in my mouth as I waited for some sort of signal to be given so that I might be granted entry. Anxiously, I started to pace and wring my hands, all the while eating the massive pile of rolls I had somehow procured.

"Oi, Wood!" came a panting voice down the hall. It was James Potter, looking sweaty and out of breath. "Not the only late one, am I?"

"Apparently not," I muttered under my breath. I'd arrived ten minutes earlier. "I don't recall ever giving you my name," I commented louder.

"Nick told me, after our, uh, little tiff," he explained, stopping next to me. "Well then. Shall we?" He gave the staff room door a push and held it open. Inside I could see several curious—and some frustrated—faces. "Why in Merlin's name do you have so many rolls?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," I answered as I passed him, red-faced. Head ducked, I shuffled toward an empty corner.

"Well then," said Professor McGonagall, who stood at the front of the room. "Now that everyone-," she glared at Potter and me, "-is here, let's begin. First, we'll have the Heads of Houses introduce their Captains."

"Ahem," said the dark-skinned man standing next to her. His hair was slicked back with some kind of gel and he wore yellow and dark purple pinstriped robes. "Although I'm sure everyone knows him, here is the Slytherin Quidditch Captain, seventh-year Darius Calvios."

"Darius _Calvus_ (1)." The words escaped my mouth unbidden, though thankfully to quietly for Calvios to hear. But James' head whipped toward me; after a brief moment of eye contact, he turned to stifle his laughter.

Darius ran a hand through his glossy blond hair, which hung a little past his chin. As his hand receded to his side, my eyes were drawn to the fake mole poised like a Stunned Bludger by his mouth, ready to pop out and attack everyone in the vicinity. "I hope to do just as well if not better this year while Slytherin Captain," he simpered to Professor Noguchi.

HA! I thought. Slytherin had their broomsticks handed to them by Hufflepuff last year!

"Well, Ravenclaw's Captain is none other than seventh-year Allison Wood," the man across from Noguchi quickly interjected. From where I was standing, I could see his shaking hands wringing themselves to death behind his robes of blue.

"Thank you, Professor Rousch," I said quietly. Several people turned to me in surprise, as if they hadn't noticed my presence. I flushed once again and retreated back into my corner.

"Gryffindor," began the third man, sitting comfortably in an armchair, "has the pleasure of having sixth-year James Potter as its Captain. James?"

"Neville," James acknowledged. He gave his audience a little wave.

My eyebrows rose before I could control them. James was on a first name basis with the Herbology professor? But of course—I'd forgotten Professor Longbottom was a family friend of the Potters.

Someone coughed. It was Professor Hauge, the Muggle Studies teacher that always seemed to have a permanent cold. "The—_cough_—Hufflepuff Captain is Mark—_hack_—van Hulle. Mr. van Hulle is a fifth year."

Murmurs erupted throughout the small room. I craned my neck in an effort to look at this new face.

Mark van Hulle was short but surprisingly muscular for a fifteen-year-old. His nondescript brown hair was cut short in an effort to get that military look, but his unruly locks spiked up in random places. His face was expressionless as people strained to get a look at him, except for a small muscle working in his jaw.

_What a serious looking guy_, I thought, giving him the once-over. Unbidden, a small smile crept onto my face. _I have a feeling Hufflepuff won't be quite the pushover everyone is expecting this year._

I caught James' eye when my gaze left van Hulle. His face betrayed nothing, but his mouth broke into a small smile as he saw me looking at him. He wiggled his eyebrows at me. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Now that everyone has been introduced, let's discuss pitch bookings," McGonagall continued briskly. "We've already set up a tentative try-out schedule… Ravenclaw will have this Saturday from 8 to 2; Hufflepuff's will be on the same day but from 3-9. Gryffindor will be this Sunday from 8 to 2 and Slytherin will have Sunday from 3-9…"

"Well," I said, surveying the massive group of hopefuls before me, all talking and conversing with their neighbors excitedly. "Well." I was in too much shock to say much else. Were there always quite so many people? To my left I could see Scharkey and Scarlett climbing the stands to get a good seat. Catching my eye, Scharkey waved and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Well," I repeated, a little louder. The talking immediately stopped; every eye was focused on me. My mind was momentarily blank as I adjusted to being the subject of so much attention (as opposed to normally fading into the background). "If you're not here for the Ravenclaw Quidditch try-outs, get out."

No one moved.

"Okay, then," I said, looking around once more. "Any first years, skat." I made shooing movements with my free hand (the other clasping a Cleansweep Seventeen), and several small figures dashed away, shamefaced.

Now that that was settled, I had the remaining contestants fly a lap around the pitch so I could take a look at their basic skills… Let's just say that I feared for the future of my beloved team.

I spotted a dark figure in the far stands, intently bent over something in their lap. I squinted and made out unruly, spiky hair and a thick, red-and-gold scarf. "Potter…" I snarled under my breath. "That bastard, spying on _my_ try-outs! And they say Gryffindors are the _chivalrous_ ones." I'd conveniently forgotten my own, not-so sportsman-like plans for the weekend.

A crash and a shrill scream interrupted my dark musings. "Oh, crap tabs," I muttered. One of the second-years had flown into a goal post.

Despite my fears, I managed to put together a pretty fair team by the end of tryouts.

Stephen Stroupe, the snobby blonde boy I'd bragged my Captainship to had returned as Chaser, along with Kayla Milam, a tall, athletic girl with an arm like a cannon. Both were fellow seventh-years. The third Chaser was a fifth-year named Maggie Anderson, who had never had any real experience with Quidditch and decided to try out "on a whim." The kid, small and mousy, was a natural, maybe even better than Stroupe and Milam.

Another returnee was sixth-year Beater Carl Mauldin, a large, heavy-set boy with arms about as thick as my head. His partner was Timothy McCulley, whose arms were… not as thick as my head, by a long shot. The scrawny fourth-year looked almost comical next to the gorilla-like Mauldin.

Last but not least—the hotly contested position of Seeker was of course the most important of my beloved sport—was a little third-year I liked to refer to as my "secret weapon." When you look at David Lankford, you don't think much—average size, brown hair & eyes, not much of an intelligent look to him—but the boy is a Quidditch player after my own heart. Call me a cougar, but _damn _is all I will say.

"Congratulations on making the team," I said finally, surveying the six people before me. "I hope you all are as committed to Quidditch as I am, because if I had my way we'd start practicing now, but unfortunately McGonagall forbids all official practices until all try-outs have been complete."

"When will we practice, then?" Carl grunted.

"I booked the pitch from 7:30 to 10:30 on Mondays and Thursdays," I answered. "Wednesdays and Fridays will be shorter, from 6:30 to 8. And Saturdays will be from 8 to noon."

"No Sunday practice?" asked Stephen, surprised into conversation.

"For now. As matches approach, the schedule may change. I'll post it weekly on the notice board every Sunday evening."

Stephen nodded, satisfied for now.

I pursed my lips. "Alright then. See you guys Monday. Don't be late."

As we walked across the pitch, Maggie hesitantly touched my elbow. "Um, what if we don't have a broom?"

I sighed. "Just use a school broom for now. You'll want to order one fast, though—school brooms can only do so much. I have a copy of _Quidditch Weekly_ back in the changing rooms that you can borrow."

"Oh! Uh, okay," she said. "Thanks, Captain." Her dark eyes shone as she looked at me.

"Sweet Merlin, don't do that," I told her. "That makes me feel like I should be on a yacht or something."

She sent me a puzzled look. "A what?"

"Never mind," I said absentmindedly, spotting a familiar person making his way down the stands. "Oi! Potter!"

"Ah, my poor eyes must be blessed, to be able to see your lovely visage this brisk Saturday mor—afternoon!" James called, hurriedly shoving a small leather-bound notebook in his bag.

"Oh, don't bother," I chided. "Let me see." I held out my hand expectantly.

"Wh-what? Like I'd hand over all my hard work to you!"

I raised my eyebrows. "You've only had the chance to see the Ravenclaw tryouts. Nothing in there I don't already know. Now gimme!"

James made a face as he thrust his papers into my hand.

After a while… "Hm. And here—ha! Oh, baby Grindelwald you are a riot, Potter," I said finally, wiping a tear from my eyes with one hand.

"Wait, what?" He made a grab for the notebook but missed. "What's so bad?"

"Nothing, nothing," I chuckled. "It's just… your drawings. Is that supposed to be an arm or is Carl just really happy to be back on the pitch?"

He shrugged. "Well—I'm not really sure. He doesn't talk much in class…"

I laughed out loud at that. "Really? He's the loudest one on the pitch. By the way, my name has two _L_'s, not one." I tossed the book back and he stuffed it out of sight.

"Who cares?" James made a face. "I only ever think of you as 'Wood' anyway."

My brow furrowed as several dirty and inappropriate jokes immediately came to mind, but I shooed them away with a cough. "That's the way it should be, anyway."

He started to nod in agreement and then did a double take. "What does that-,"

"Oh my _fruitcakes_ I'm hungry," I moaned. "Do you think lunch is still going?" It was already two o'clock and I needed some sustenance before the Hufflepuff try-outs.

"I doubt it."

We stood there awkwardly for a moment. "I should, uh, probably get going…" I started.

"Or we could just go to the kitchens? The house-elves won't mind," said James, hands in his pockets.

"Oh." I blinked. "Um, okay. Just, uh, let me change first."

As I walked into the locker rooms, I shook my head and chuckled. Of course James Potter would know a way to get into the school kitchens, the fabled land of endless food and willing house-elves. He wasn't what you'd call the school prankster—that was more up Fred's alley—but he definitely gave off that air of being someone who knew more than he should.

After dumping my broom and other equipment in my Captain's Office—yes, I actually have an office now—I changed quickly into jeans and a comfy navy blue sweater. I grabbed my jacket off the door on the way out, thinking of how chilly the walk back up to the castle would be. It was, after all, October already.


	4. Chapter 4

**[A little review of the characters presented thus far, in order of introduction...**

**-Allison Wood: main character. Long wavy brown hair, hazel eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-James Potter: male lead. Tall and broad-shouldered, with messy black hair and amber eyes. Refuses to wear his glasses properly. Chaser One & captain on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor .**

**-Fred Weasley: a cousin of James'. Tall and gangly, and a spread of freckles and light brown hair despite his dark skin. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**-Elizabeth Clay: a dorm-mate and best friend of Allison's. Tall and willowy blonde, grey eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Amber Ross: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Small, pixie-like blonde, bright blue eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Elisabeth Scharkey: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Expressive, bad-tempered girl of Asian descent. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Holly Williams: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Thin, sharp-featured blonde, green eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Scarlett O'Riley: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Prefect. Ruddy-faced dirty blonde. Seventh year Ravenclaw. **

**-Antony Marwick: a house-mate of Allison's. Head Boy. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Molly Weasley: a cousin of James and Fred's. Head Girl. Seventh year Gryffindor.**

**-Roxanne Weasley: a cousin of James and Molly's, sister to Fred. First year Gryffindor.**

**-Rose Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Luke/Lewis/Louis Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, Roxanne, and Rose's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Hugh/Harvey/Tarquin/Hugo Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's, brother to Rose. Third year Gryffindor.**

**-Minerva McGonagall: Headmistress.**

**-Mr. Ruppenthal: Caretaker.**

**-Matt Edwards: an attractive house-mate of Allison's. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Stephen Stroupe: a house-mate of Allison's. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.  
**

**-Nick Riggins: a friend and year-mate of Allison's. Keeper on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.  
**

**-Lena Banks: a year-mate of Allison's. Overconfident, arrogant Seeker on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.  
**

**-Ernie Rousch: Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Ravenclaw Head of House.  
**

**-Darios Calvios: the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and Chaser. Blonde, arrogant and snake-tongued. Seventh year Slytherin.**

**-Ramon Naguchi: Astronomy professor. Slytherin Head of House.**

**-Neville Longbottom: Herbology professor. Gryffindor Head of House.**

**-Chandra Hauge: Muggle Studies professor that had a constant cold. Hufflepuff Head of House.**

**-Mark van Hulle: Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and Seeker. Short, brown-haired and muscular. Fifth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Kayla Milam: the final dorm-mate of Allison's. Tall, athletic and blond. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Maggie Anderson: a house-mate of Allison's. Small and mousy-haired. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Carl Mauldin: a house-mate of Allison's. Built and gorilla-like. Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Timothy McCullin: a house-mate of Allison's. Thin and gangly. Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Ravenclaw.**

**-David Lankford: a house-mate of Allison's and her "secret weapon." Average-looking and nondescript. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Third year Ravenclaw.**

**So long...!]**

* * *

**)  
**

_Scoundrel._**  
**

__**)**

"Enlighten me," I said, approaching the boy from behind. I crossed my arms in expectance.

James turned around so I could see him smirk. "What do you want to know?" He gestured for me to walk.

I fell into step beside him easily, as if I'd done it a thousand times before. The leaves crunched beneath my boots. "Where are these mysterious kitchens? I've never been."

"Never been?" said James, only half-surprised. "Not in all the seven years you've been here?"

I beckoned for him to come closer and made to whisper in his ear. "Never," I told him confidentially, sneaking a glance. I was rewarded with an appreciative smile.

"It's not that hard to get in, anyway," he said. We had reached the castle walls. "There's a portrait of a bowl of fruit under the Grand Staircase, you see, and all you have to do is tickle the pear..." He mimed doing so, his hands held out in front of him as we walked.

I hid a grin as I watched his antics. There was something so refreshing about being with James that I instantly felt comfortable around him.

We crossed the lawn, which was still green despite the sting of autumn that hung in the cool air, and ducked into the clock tower. A chubby first year brushed past me in his haste, knocking me to the side.

"Oof!" I exhaled. I looked up to see James' bright red face above mine; he had caught me, again. I righted myself. "Thanks, Potter; you seem to have a talent for catching damsels in distress such as myself."

"Er, well, uh," he sputtered. He fussed with his hair with one hand and turned suddenly away. "I—oi, watch it kid!" he called after the first year. I could see the tips of his ears poking out like bits of fire through the tufts of his hair.

A small smile spread across my lips. _Cute_, I thought, before I could stop myself.

We took the grand staircase down to the lowest levels of the castle. There were no windows, but the walls took on an earthy tint and boasted sunny tapestries and copper hangings. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a stack of round barrels in a corner as we passed; I grinned but didn't point them out to James. Doubtless enough, he already knew the location of the Hufflepuff common room. So instead we came to a halt in front of a large still life painting of a bowl of fruit.

"Here we are," said James, reaching confidently toward the painted pear. He glanced toward me. "Ready?"

I gave him a cocky smile. "Boy, if you don't tickle that pear to death right now my stomach will start eating itself, consuming me in the process, and then eat you, pointy bones and all."

He tickled the pear.

To my amazement, the pear began to squirm, first left and then right. It giggled; the sound was high-pitched like a child's. The pear then transformed into a large green doorknob. James grabbed it and pulled.

"Oh, wow," I whispered.

The kitchens were enormous, with high ceilings and a huge brick fireplace at one end. "Are we under the Great Hall, then?" I asked quietly, for there were five long wooden tables that mimicked that familiar sight.

James nodded in confirmation. His hair shone in the flickering torchlight.

"Master Potter!" cried a bug-eyed, sail-like eared creature. He wore a shockingly pink and lacy bonnet upon his head and had what looked like a shower curtain, maroon in color, wrapped around his waist and shoulders like a toga. Thick, giant glasses perched from the end of his nose.

"Hey, wotcher, Wesley!" said James cheerfully.

"Wotcher?" I muttered to James. It didn't seem to fit him.

He ran his hand through his hair. "Picked it up from a family friend. Wesley, any chance we could get some food? Wood here and I missed lunch."

"Well, of course," Wesley obliged. "What would Master Wood and Mistress Wood like?"

"How about… a turkey sandwich and pumpkin juice for me, and… what about you, Wood?"

I started. "Oh, um…" The house-elf's large eyes quivered slightly. "A ham sandwich would be lovely," I said weakly. "And some fruit, I suppose."

"Right away, Master Potter, Mistress Wood."

"Uncomfortable?" James asked me. He gestured to a corner with a few tables and chairs where we could sit.

"A little," I answered, sitting. "My family doesn't have house-elves."

"Mine used to. Kreacher, one that my dad inherited," said James. His eyes were glassy as he stared at a spot in the wall. "He died when I was a kid."

"Oh," I murmured. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, until Wesley bustled over holding a tray brimming with food.

"Much appreciated, Wesley!" said James, lighting up at the sight of food, which disappeared as soon as Wesley set down the tray.

"Merlin. I love Hogwarts," I sighed, patting a now full stomach. I took my glass of juice and washed the sandwich down with a swig of the sweet liquid inside.

"Me too," agreed James, looking over at me and smiling. He had a unique smile, I thought absentmindedly. It was crooked to the right ever so slightly. He had one dimple in his right cheek.

To get my mind off such things, I asked him to tell me about his family.

"Well, you've heard of my dad, right?" he said. I nodded. "He married my mum right when she got out of school. I have a younger brother, Albus—he's a fifth year. Got our dad's eyes but not his hair." James laughed at this, reaching up to tousle his own unkempt hair. "He's pretty quiet, likes to think things through before saying them aloud. He's the only Slytherin in our family, which I think makes him distance himself a little. But he's got the best sense of humor.

"Lily—my little sister—is a third year."

"Gryffindor, right?" I said.

He smiled again, this time a little proudly. "Yup. She's a fiery one, just like Mum. But she wouldn't hurt a fly, not really. She has loads of animals she's rescued back home.

"My dad's godson lived with us before he graduated Hogwarts five years ago—Teddy. Just about the nicest guy you'll ever meet; he's never said a bad word about anyone ever, I bet. He's actually engaged to my cousin Victoire.

"Fred's my cousin and my best friend. His mum's black, if you were wondering," added James. "Fred's really the one who likes to do all the pranks and whatnot. He was practically raised in a joke shop, after all—his dad founded Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes."

"Wow," I said.

"I know right? His little sister just got Sorted into Gryffindor as well this year. Roxanne.

"Then there's Rose and Hugo. They're my cousins as well; Rosie's a fifth year Ravenclaw and Hugo's a third year in Gryffindor. Louis and Victoire are both Ravenclaws, Victoire before she graduated three years ago (Louis' a fifth year)… Oh, and Molly and Lucy, of course. Molly's Head Girl and in Gryffindor, Lucy's in my year but in Hufflepuff."

"Wow," I said again at last. "You certainly do have a lot of cousins!"

James chuckled. "Well, mum has six—five brothers." He swallowed painfully at the slip.

I chose to ignore it. Ginny Potter's sixth brother had probably died during the war. My mother's two sisters had been killed as well. "Well," I started in an effort to change the subject. "Hufflepuff's tryouts must have already begun. We'd better hurry."

Standing up, James stretched his arms toward the ceiling. His shirt rose up just enough so I could see a sliver of exposed, tanned skin. I looked away quickly. "Are you going to insist that we sit on opposite ends of the stadium?" he said jokingly.

"Actually, that's exactly what I'm going to do," I told him, brought back to the reality that this was an opposing Quidditch team's Captain!

He frowned. "Aw, really?"

"Leave and never enter my sight again!" I commanded mockingly. He grinned and motioned for me to exit first. I beamed at him—gentleman, check!—and walked cheerfully out.

**(**

* * *

**(  
**

"Ba ba ba bum, bum ba bum… Bun da doo dit ba!" I sang to myself as I bounced up the stairs to the dormitories.

"Someone's in a good mood," remarked Scharkey. She lay with her feet up on her headboard.

"Why not? It's good to be alive!" I declared, smiling widely.

"Was there a good turnout?" she asked.

"For what?"

"Quidditch try-outs, dummy!"

I sat down on my bed and pulled off my trainers. "Oh, right. We'll survive, I suppose."

She spun over onto her stomach. "Oh, come on! Give me more than that. The Hufflepuff try-outs were today as well, correct?"

"Yeah." I didn't offer any more than that as I solemnly stowed away my shoes and reclined back onto my pillow.

I was right to have been wary of Hufflepuff. Mark van Hulle, the military-esque fifth year Captain had pulled an unexpectedly good crop this year: returning were Sterling Whisby, Chaser, Robbie Mabb as Beater, and van Hulle himself as Seeker. Then there were Kirsten Milbury, Keeper, long and lanky and possessing the troublesome knack for catching feints; Mickey Derickson, Chaser, tiny but fast; Aurora Camillo, Chaser, beautiful and startlingly accurate; and Kendall Brown, Beater, forceful and built for a third year.

"What about us? How was the turnout?"

I smirked. "Pretty bloody good, if I do say so myself. _And—_" I flipped onto my side to face Scharkey. "—I've got a secret weapon."

She laughed loudly. "Secret weapon? You sound like your dad!"

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure how to take that…"

"Allison, your dad is a famous Quidditch player. I'd take it as a compliment."

"If you say so." My dad did Keep for Puddlemere United for ten years. Now he coached Junior Quidditch. He'd been Quidditch Captain at Hogwarts too back in his day, but for Gryffindor.

That made me think of James Potter. I smiled widely, then checked myself in the face for such impudent thoughts.

"Where is everyone?" I said instead.

"Down in the common room. Amber and Holly are having a chess match, and Elli and Scarlett are betting. I came up here for some peace and quiet," Scharkey answered. She gestured to a stack of magazines next to her: I saw two _Witch Weekly_s and one _Magical Make-up International_.

I sat up. "Well, have fun. I'm going down to show them who's the real chess master."

I took the spiraling steps two at a time into the spacious, bookcase-laden loft that lay above the common room. What was nice about Ravenclaw Tower was that it was practically a library unto itself; a lot of Ravenclaws took the time to study here rather than the school library. I leaned briefly over the railing, scoping the place out: there were Matt Edwards and Antony Marwick, laughing with a couple of sixth year girls by the fireplace; Rose Weasley lay, nose buried in a book, on a couch a little away, her feet in the lap of her cousin Louis, who was deep in conversation with fellow fifth year Danny Devries; a group of giggling third years by the bookcases blushed over Louis' silky locks; finally I spotted my dorm-mates seated around a table by the window, Amber and Holly looking like every chess move cost them a year of their lives.

"You'll regret that move, Holly Williams," Amber was saying smugly. Her blue eyes glittered. "Watch me take your knight! Bishop to C-5."

"You bitch," Holly said bitterly. A pile of beaten up, battle-worn pieces lay at her elbow.

"Yeah, Amber," I said, joining them. "That knight had a wife and children."

"Casualty of war," she said dismissively. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you all day."

"She had Quidditch try-outs, silly. Do try and remember what your friends live and breathe for," Elli commented. She smiled at me, and inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief. Lately she'd seemed a little… not herself and I was glad she was feeling better.

"I'm a busy woman! I can't remember every single thing you people do! Damn you!" Amber told Holly crossly. Holly had just taken her queen.

"If you move your rook to E-9, you're in prime position for checkmate," I whispered to her.

Holly slapped my arm. "Don't you dare help her!"

Scarlett slapped my other arm. "Unfair advantage! I've got five Galleons on Holly!"

"No, keep helping her," Elli told me quietly. "I haven't got five Galleons."

"I'm surrounded by incompetent blondes," I said loudly. They all hit me in turns for that. "Honestly! Me 'n' Scharkey are the only ones non blondes in our dormitory!"

"Maybe you should just dye your hair," Scarlett suggested.

I laughed. "Can you imagine me with blonde hair? Please!"

Holly had Amber in check. "You know who's hair I bet is dyed? That Weasley kid's."

Elli snorted. "Which one?"

"Are you talking about Fred? Isn't he gorgeous?" Scarlett sighed.

"I won't say he's not a pretty boy, but he's not really my type," I commented.

"You like _boring_ boys," Scarlett informed me.

"I like _normal_ boys," I corrected her.

"But seriously!" Holly pursued. "His hair is way too bright for a black kid's!"

"He's only half though," said Elli suddenly. "His father is a redhead. Maybe that's it?"

"But his sister's not—"

"Hah! Checkmate!" Amber cried.

"Whoa, when did this happen?" I'd looked away for a second and she had maneuvered her way out of check and into a checkmate of her own. Maybe I should give her more credit. But she still couldn't beat me. I don't brag about much, but I'm pretty confident about my chess abilities. It was an art, my mother always said.

"Say hi to Satan for me," Holly told Amber irritably.

"Sure thing!"

"Pay up," Elli ordered Scarlett with a smile.

Scarlett obliged unwillingly. "This is your fault," she accused me.

"Incompetence," I repeated.

Across the room Naomi Endsworth was throwing herself at fourth-year Roy Gresham, twirling her hair and giggling like a maniac. Poor girl. The kid was definitely gay, if my brother's testimony was anything to go by.

My brother. I hadn't seen Sam around much so far this year. I made a mental note to chat with him at breakfast tomorrow.

Amber checked her watch. "It's getting late," she said. "Winners take sleep seriously. I'm off to bed."

"Me too. I'm knackered," said Scarlett. They went up together.

Elli stayed where she was.

"What about you?" I said. "Aren't you tired?"

"You're the one who should be tired," she said. She crossed her arms and leaned up against the window. In the light of the moon her hair looked like it was woven with tiny beams of starlight. For a moment she looked very… I don't know how to describe it. Weary, like she'd been walking for miles, but restless, like she couldn't stop for anything.

"Elli," I said seriously. I pulled out a chair and sat down across from her. "I wanted to ask you…" I bit my lip and took a deep breath. "Lately, is there anything… you're worried about? That you might like to talk about?"

"The stars look nice tonight," she said absentmindedly. "Don't you think so? Like little bits of glass. I bet the sky used to be a giant plate of glass. Someone broke it. Broke it into pieces."

"You were always the poetic one," I whispered. Her eyes were dark.

Elli turned away suddenly. "I'm fine," she said, smiling. "But thanks for asking." She tugged at the cuff of her purple sweater.

"Okay," I said. I didn't believe her for a second.

"Well. I'm off to bed," she said, getting up.

My hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. "Elli," I said. My eyes searched hers, but all I saw was a reflection of myself. "You know I'll always be here for you, right? You know I'm always on your side."

Her eyes softened, and she squeezed my hand reassuringly. "I know."

**(**

* * *

**(  
**

Damn James Potter. Damn him and all his good luck with Quidditch.

Potter had scraped up an excellent team this year. Figures, since he only had one new addition this year: his sister, Lily Potter, had become the new Gryffindor Beater. Returning were Nick Riggins as Keeper, seventh year Dominique Weasley and fifth-year Danny Malcom as Chasers, sixth year Joe Kaufman as the other beater, and that vapid Lena Banks as Seeker.

I chewed the tip of my quill as I reviewed my notes. I'd been squatting in the stands for about six hours now, spying on the Gryffindor try-outs. Kaufman was ganfly, but he had good aim; Banks was egoistic, but damn good; Weasley lost her temper too easily and Nick was too quiet, which was why James had been made Captain—and Lily packed a punch, little redheaded thing that she was.

Damn it!

Oh, well. Potter and Mark van Hulle may have gotten together good teams this year, but at least I was confident enough that Ravenclaw could crush Slytherin.

Darius had three new additions this year: third year Quinton Alberta as chaser, seventh year Delia Difiore as beater, and sixth year Raphael Posados as Keeper. Returning were sixth year Lorcan Scamander as Chaser, seventh year Theodore Wisz as Beater, and fifth year Albus Potter as Seeker.

So what if Potter was crazy good and slightly scary with his ability to spot the Snitch from halfway across the stadium?

…Double damn. Like, Merlin's cheetah print feather boa damn.

* * *

**[A/N: Like it? Hate it? Hey, this only took me like a week! Give me some credit! Maybe? No? Well, if that's how you want it... I live to please, as always! Drop me a review! ;) **

**And James finally made an appearance longer than five paragraphs, yay! Eh, no one really cares about him anyway. Crazy kid.]**


	5. Chapter 5

**[A little review of the characters presented thus far, in order of house, then introduction...**

******-Wesley: a Hogwarts house elf.**

**Ravenclaw**

**-Allison Wood: main character. Long wavy brown hair, hazel eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Elizabeth Clay: a dorm-mate and best friend of Allison's. Tall and willowy blonde, grey eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Amber Ross: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Small, pixie-like blonde, bright blue eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Elisabeth Scharkey: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Expressive, bad-tempered girl of Asian descent. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Holly Williams: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Thin, sharp-featured blonde, green eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Scarlett O'Riley: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Prefect. Ruddy-faced dirty blonde. Seventh year Ravenclaw. **

**-Antony Marwick: a house-mate of Allison's. Head Boy. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Rose Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Luke/Lewis/Louis Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, Roxanne, and Rose's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Matt Edwards: an attractive house-mate of Allison's. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Stephen Stroupe: a house-mate of Allison's. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Ernie Rousch: Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Ravenclaw Head of House.**

**-Kayla Milam: the final dorm-mate of Allison's. Tall, athletic and blond. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Maggie Anderson: a house-mate of Allison's. Small and mousy-haired. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Carl Mauldin: a house-mate of Allison's. Built and gorilla-like. Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Timothy McCullin: a house-mate of Allison's. Thin and gangly. Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Ravenclaw.**

**-David Lankford: a house-mate of Allison's and her "secret weapon." Average-looking and nondescript. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Third year Ravenclaw.**

**-Victoire Weasley: James' cousin and Dominque and Louis' older sister. Engaged to Teddy Lupin. +3 Ravenclaw.**

**-Danny Devries: fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**Gryffindor**

**-James Potter: male lead. Tall and broad-shouldered, with messy black hair and amber eyes. Refuses to wear his glasses properly. Chaser One & captain on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor .**

**-Fred Weasley: a cousin of James'. Tall and gangly, and a spread of freckles and light brown hair despite his dark skin. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**-Molly Weasley: a cousin of James and Fred's. Head Girl. Seventh year Gryffindor.**

**-Roxanne Weasley: a cousin of James and Molly's, sister to Fred. First year Gryffindor.**

**-Hugh/Harvey/Tarquin/Hugo Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's, brother to Rose. Third year Gryffindor.**

**-Minerva McGonagall: Headmistress.**

**-Nick Riggins: a friend and year-mate of Allison's. Keeper on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.  
**

**-Lena Banks: a year-mate of Allison's. Overconfident, arrogant Seeker on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.**

**-Neville Longbottom: Herbology professor. Gryffindor Head of House.**

**-Lily Potter: James' younger sister. Beater on the Quidditch team. Third year Gryffindor.**

**-Teddy Lupin: James' godbrother. Engaged to Victoire. +5 Gryffindor.**

**-Danny Malcom: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Gryffindor.**

**-Joe Kaufman: Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**Hufflepuff**

**-Chandra Hauge: Muggle Studies professor that had a constant cold. Hufflepuff Head of House.**

**-Mark van Hulle: Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and Seeker. Short, brown-haired and muscular. Fifth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Lucy Weasley: James' cousin and Molly's younger sister. Sixth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Sterling Whisby: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Sixth year HUfflepuff.**

**-Robbie Mabb: Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Kirsten Milbury: Keeper on the Quidditch team. Fifthy year Hufflepuff.**

**-Mickey Derickson: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Aurora Camillo: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Kendall Brown: Beater on the Quidditch team. Third year Hufflepuff.**

**Slytherin**

**-Mr. Ruppenthal: Caretaker.**

**-Darios Calvios: the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and Chaser. Blonde, arrogant and snake-tongued. Seventh year Slytherin.**

**-Ramon Naguchi: Astronomy professor. Slytherin Head of House.**

**-Albus Potter: James' younger brother. Surprisingly well kept hair. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Slytherin.**

**-Quinton Alberta: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Third year Slytherin.**

**-Delia Difiore: Beater on the Quidditch team. Seventhy year Slytherin.**

**-Raphael Posados: Keeper on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Slytherin.**

**-Lorcan Scamander: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Slytherin.**

**-Theodore Wisz: Beater on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Slytherin.**

"Now, I'd like you to please turn your attentions to the diagrams on the board." Professor Rousch rapped his wand against the blackboard at the front of the classroom; instantly lines of chalk swirled across its surface. "See how the appearance of the Lethifold greatly resembles that of a dementor? Why is that significant? Miss Wood, if you will."

"Because the only known form of protection against a Lethifold is the Patronus Charm," I answered primly.

"Quite right! Five points to Ravenclaw. Now, can anyone tell me…"

"My uncle once faked death by Lethifold," Amber whispered to me out of the corner of her mouth. Her head was bent, like she was taking notes, but her long curly hair concealed her rather unflattering caricature of Professor Rousch. "We found him a few towns over with the local dentist."

I rolled my eyes and tapped my wand on her paper, drawing the ink on it together in a small blob. "You'd get in trouble if he saw that," I whispered back.

"Rousch? He wouldn't do anything," she retorted, looking put out that I'd ruined her doodling.

I gave her a sharp look and then returned to the lecture.

"… And for homework, a fourteen inch essay comparing and contrasting Lethifolds and Dementors. Particularly focus on identification and protection, please."

The bell rang. "Class dismissed."

"Fourteen inches!" I moaned quietly as the class began to pack up. "I've got Quidditch tonight!"

"Don't you complain," said Scharkey as she passed our bench. "You made the schedule."

"She's right," said Amber.

"Why was I made Quidditch Captain?" I asked the heavens. I stuffed my quill and ink bottle in the side pocket of my bag and swung it over my shoulder. "I hate work!"

We walked out of the classroom and started down the long spiraling staircase. Amber brushed her hair out of her eyes. "The better question is, why are you in Ravenclaw?"

"People can be in Ravenclaw without being hardworking," I snapped. "That's what Hufflepuff is for!"

"Hufflepuff is for wimps," Amber said flatly.

"Then why aren't you in it?" I muttered darkly.

"Hm?"

"Oh, nothing."

"Oh, nothing, my-,"

"Oi!" I suddenly called over the railing as I spotted a scrawny brown-haired fourth year exiting the office Professor Grabauskas, the Transfiguration teacher. "Sammy!"

The boy paused and craned his head upwards. "Aye? Wit?"

"Come visit me at lunch! And dinnae say yeh cannae jus' 'cause yeh dinnae watty!" I told him.

"Aye, aye," said Sam resignedly and walked away.

I turned to see Amber give me a strange look. "Wit? I mean what?"

She cocked her head to the side. "Ever notice that when you're with your brother your Scottish accent stands out more?"

"No," I said. "Ah haven'y—haven't. Let's go, we'll miss lunch." I swallowed a gaping yawn. I'd overslept this morning and had missed breakfast; my stomach cramped painfully at the thought of finally getting some food.

"Miss lunch, she says. As if we could actually…" Amber muttered. She skipped ahead anyway and was five or six steps down ahead of me before I realized it. I dashed to catch up.

At the bottom of the staircase I froze, paralyzed by a horrifying sight. Across the hall, Stephen Stroupe leaned against one stone wall, arms crossed and head bent low, talking with wee, mousy Maggie Anderson. I gaped as she blushed and clutched her books tightly to her chest and smiled a silly little girlish smile when Stephen moved closer, leaving hardly a foot between them. His gaze was soft as he made to brush an errant strand of hair from Maggie's face.

"That bastard," I whispered. Oh sweet, innocent Maggie! And that vile pompous prat Stephen!

"What?" said Amber curiously.

"Aye, Ah'll be having words wi' him," I promised darkly. "Th' howfin' fanny, messing with me perfect Quidditch team…"

"Excuse me?"

"Ev'rything's ruined naw," I moaned.

Just then Kayla Milam passed by, blonde hair swinging from side to side in a high pony. She sent a dirty look towards the couple, her eyes lingering a little too long on Stephen's easy grin, before stalking away.

"…Bugger," I finished.

"I can't even," Amber exhaled, throwing up her hands in frustration. "Let's go to lunch you great big buffoon!"

"I resent that," I muttered.

Upon finally entering the Great Hall, I fell upon the plate of steaming roast beef sandwiches and bowls piled high with glistening fruit. "I love life," I declared to no one in particular, fruit-speared fork stabbing into the air above to prove my point.

"I'm glad to hear it," said Amber, looking at my feasting with some distaste. "Hey, Elli."

"Hi," Elli replied distractedly. She was bent over a long sheet of parchment, her quill poised at the end of it. The tip pressed the parchment so hard that a large inkblot was forming. "What are four things that contributed to the eighteenth century goblin rebellions?"

"Well, you've got three already," I mumbled through my sandwich, peering over her shoulder. "I'd go with wand legislation."

She wrote that down and began to go further into depth with some frightening fervor.

"Ah, goblin rebellions," sighed Amber. "How nostalgic. I'm glad I'm done with all that."

"If I want to go into magical law," muttered Elli, brow furrowed in concentration, "then I have to continue with History of Magic."

"Magical Law," Amber repeated slowly, rolling her eyes for my benefit. I giggled and immediately choked on a chunk of honeydew. "How boring. Me, I'm aiming for the best."

"Healing," I pointed out after having to perform the Heimlich on myself, "does not seem to be up your alley, I'm afraid."

Amber shrugged. "Perhaps not Healing, precisely. I want to go more into research, like. You should be thinking of what you want to do too, Allison. You can't graduate undecided like you are now!"

I grunted noncommitedly. Truth was, I _had_ already decided what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

"Alli!"

"Oh, hey, Sam," I said, turning around. Sam rolled his eyes and slid into place next to me.

"What do yeh want with me?" he said.

"Oh, cuhm aff i'," I told him crossly. "Cannae ah talk to me wee brother without haven'y to haff a reason?"

"It's like a circus show," Amber whispered to Elli.

"No," Sam answered obviously. "If yeh dinnae need heehaw—" He made to get up.

"Sit!" I ordered, dragging him back down. "It wilnae hurt teh sit witch yer sister's friends."

"Do yeh no yer friends?" he muttered. "Ah haff me own life, Alli!"

I glanced toward the Gryffindor table, purposely letting my eyes pass over an animated James Potter to where Sam's two friends, Jesse Hubbel and Arthur Latimer, sat. My eyebrows shot up as I spotted the very pretty June Parker sitting next to them.

"Oh, ah see," I said. "Geh on, then. Geh mingle with the pretty girrel."

Sam granted me another eye roll before shoving himself away from the bench. I returned to my plate. "What?" I asked, aware that everyone was staring at me.

"Nothing," they all chorused.

I frowned. I had a small complex about my accent. See, my dad's a pure Scot through and through, but my mum is English. When we were little, Sam and I lived in Scotland with Dad's family, but after Dad stopped playing League we moved in with Mum's side of the family. The local village children often teased us about our accents, so we worked hard to talk and sound like English kids. But being with Sam, here in Hogwarts in the heart of Scotland, really makes me go back to how it used to be.

"Shove aff," I muttered, and, stuffing a last piece of sandwich in my mouth, I got up. "I have a free next, so I'm off to the library."

I'd work out my frustrations in Quidditch practice later.

* * *

"Oh, sweet, sweet Merlin," I groaned loudly as I lowered myself stiffly into the hot, gently churning water. I floated at the edge for several minutes before painfully pointing my wand at the numerous golden taps at the pool's other end. Sweet-smelling, purple liquid gushed forth from five at once, and shimmery bubbles began to spread across the surface. I moaned at the sensation.

The Prefects' Bathroom was large and laid with marble. Most of its space was taken up by a sunken tub the size of a swimming pool, within which I was currently submerged. As Quidditch Captain, I was entitled to its usage along with Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl, but this paradise was definitely built with muscle-sore, practice-weary Quidditch players in mind.

Work out my frustrations indeed. I felt a little sorry about pushing my players a bit hard, but soon shrugged it off. It had been good for them.

I was just getting comfortable when I heard the door open and close with a soft thud. Then someone began to whistle, low, off-key and most definitely not a member of my own gender.

"_Shit_," I said.

The whistling stopped abruptly. "Is someone there?"

_Shit shit shit!_ It was James!

I took a huge breath and dived under water. I swam with long strokes to the farthest corner of the pool, which was partially blocked off by a statue of the nude Uwe the Unashamed. I ducked behind Uwe's leg and surrounded myself with as much bubbles as possible.

"Hello?" James called again. I felt, rather than saw, him shrug. "Must be my imagination," he muttered. There was some rustling and a soft thump.

I peeked through Uwe's legs and immediately whipped back around. _Why didn't you just say someone was using the tub, you nincompoop!_ I silently berated myself, face boiling. _Now James Potter is stripping right in front of you!_ The realization made my heart pound dangerously.

For reasons not yet clear to me, I slowly twisted back around. James had finished unbuttoning his shirt and was tossing it to one side. I sucked in a breath as he turned to face my side of the pool; I'm sure my eyes couldn't get any wider as I committed his shape to memory.

James had broad, tapered shoulders with a clearly defined collarbone, sculpted pectorals and rippling abdominals. His belly button ran long between two inverted lines that joined his hipbones and his—

_I'm going to hell for this,_ I thought cheerfully. _No, really, I'm definitely going to hell for this. Seventh circle and all._

His arm muscles worked as he fumbled with the clasp of his belt. _Holy Merlin's twitchy right eye look at those triceps!_ Finally the clasp loosened and he dropped his pants.

_Why are his legs so toned? He flies on a fucking broomstick!_ I mentally ranted. My legs don't look nearly so good, I thought, noting his defined quads and rounded calves with some jealousy. I smirked; he wore red boxer-briefs with tiny golden lions. Then I ducked under the bubbles again when he removed those as well. _He's underage, for Rowena's sake!_

I emerged timidly again when I thought the coast was clear. It was strangely silent; then—"I wonder whose clothes these are?"

_I'm dead. _

"Why would someone just leave their clothes here? Unless-," James paused, thinking. "Unless-,"

The door shot open with a bang. "Ugh, James, put some clothes on!" It was James' cousin Rose. "No one wants to see that!"

James quickly covered himself. "Rosie! What the hell are you doing!"

She turned away from him slightly. "Freddie's been looking all over for you. Something about Antony Marwick and a box of Nifflers?"

"Oh-Merlin's-hairy-nostril-I'll-be-right-out-just-let-me-get-dressed-shit-shit-shit!"

He whizzed out like a Wasps player at an Arrows postmatch party.

In his wake, Rose sighed and bent to pick up his bag and sweater. Then she paused, straightened, and stared right at me. She took a few steps toward Uwe's statue—

"Rosie! Let's go, you found James and you don't really need a bath right?" That sounded like that Louis Weasley.

"Right, of course," she answered hurriedly. She took one last glance around the bathroom and exited. The door swung shut like a Stunning spell.

I sank low into the water, overwhelmed with relief. Then all at once my muscles ached again. "I'll just stay here for a bit," I told myself. I swam over to the taps again and restarted the bubbles, then leaned against the edge and savored the memory of James Potter's glorious muscle structure.

* * *

**[A/N: Yeah, I felt bad about leaving James out for so long, so I threw in that little tidbit at the end. Not that you guys are complaining, right? ;) Sorry about the shortness, I only just realized. Also, apologies for botching up the Scottish accent- if there are any Scottish readers out there who'd like to drop me some tips, I'd be ever so grateful.]  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**[A little review of the characters presented thus far, in order of house, then introduction...**

******-Wesley: a Hogwarts house elf.**

**Ravenclaw**

**-Allison Wood: main character. Long wavy brown hair, hazel eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Elizabeth Clay: a dorm-mate and best friend of Allison's. Tall and willowy blonde, grey eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Amber Ross: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Small, pixie-like blonde, bright blue eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Elisabeth Scharkey: a dorm-mate and friend of Allison's. Expressive, bad-tempered girl of Asian descent. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Holly Williams: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Thin, sharp-featured blonde, green eyes. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Scarlett O'Riley: a dorm-mate of Allison's. Prefect. Ruddy-faced dirty blonde. Seventh year Ravenclaw. **

**-Antony Marwick: a house-mate of Allison's. Head Boy. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Rose Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Luke/Lewis/Louis Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, Roxanne, and Rose's. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Matt Edwards: an attractive house-mate of Allison's. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Stephen Stroupe: a house-mate of Allison's. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Ernie Rousch: Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Ravenclaw Head of House.**

**-Kayla Milam: the final dorm-mate of Allison's. Tall, athletic and blond. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Ravenclaw.**

**-Maggie Anderson: a house-mate of Allison's. Small and mousy-haired. Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Carl Mauldin: a house-mate of Allison's. Built and gorilla-like. Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Ravenclaw.**

**-Timothy McCullin: a house-mate of Allison's. Thin and gangly. Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Ravenclaw.**

**-David Lankford: a house-mate of Allison's and her "secret weapon." Average-looking and nondescript. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Third year Ravenclaw.**

**-Victoire Weasley: James' cousin and Dominque and Louis' older sister. Engaged to Teddy Lupin. +3 Ravenclaw.**

**-Danny Devries: fifth year Ravenclaw.**

**Gryffindor**

**-James Potter: male lead. Tall and broad-shouldered, with messy black hair and amber eyes. Refuses to wear his glasses properly. Chaser One & captain on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor .**

**-Fred Weasley: a cousin of James'. Tall and gangly, and a spread of freckles and light brown hair despite his dark skin. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**-Molly Weasley: a cousin of James and Fred's. Head Girl. Seventh year Gryffindor.**

**-Roxanne Weasley: a cousin of James and Molly's, sister to Fred. First year Gryffindor.**

**-Hugh/Harvey/Tarquin/Hugo Weasley: a cousin of James, Fred, Molly, and Roxanne's, brother to Rose. Third year Gryffindor.**

**-Minerva McGonagall: Headmistress.**

**-Nick Riggins: a friend and year-mate of Allison's. Keeper on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.  
**

**-Lena Banks: a year-mate of Allison's. Overconfident, arrogant Seeker on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Gryffindor.**

**-Neville Longbottom: Herbology professor. Gryffindor Head of House.**

**-Lily Potter: James' younger sister. Beater on the Quidditch team. Third year Gryffindor.**

**-Teddy Lupin: James' godbrother. Engaged to Victoire. +5 Gryffindor.**

**-Danny Malcom: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Gryffindor.**

**-Joe Kaufman: Beater on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Gryffindor.**

**-Samuel Wood: Allison's younger brother. Fourth year Gryffindor.**

**-Jesse Hubbell, Arthur Latimer and June Parker: Friend's of Sam. Fourth year Gryffindors.**

**Hufflepuff**

**-Chandra Hauge: Muggle Studies professor that had a constant cold. Hufflepuff Head of House.**

**-Mark van Hulle: Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain and Seeker. Short, brown-haired and muscular. Fifth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Lucy Weasley: James' cousin and Molly's younger sister. Sixth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Sterling Whisby: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Sixth year HUfflepuff.**

**-Robbie Mabb: Beater on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Kirsten Milbury: Keeper on the Quidditch team. Fifthy year Hufflepuff.**

**-Mickey Derickson: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Aurora Camillo: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Fourth year Hufflepuff.**

**-Kendall Brown: Beater on the Quidditch team. Third year Hufflepuff.**

**Slytherin**

**-Mr. Ruppenthal: Caretaker.**

**-Darios Calvios: the Slytherin Quidditch Captain and Chaser. Blonde, arrogant and snake-tongued. Seventh year Slytherin.**

**-Ramon Naguchi: Astronomy professor. Slytherin Head of House.**

**-Albus Potter: James' younger brother. Surprisingly well kept hair. Seeker on the Quidditch team. Fifth year Slytherin.**

**-Quinton Alberta: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Third year Slytherin.**

**-Delia Difiore: Beater on the Quidditch team. Seventhy year Slytherin.**

**-Raphael Posados: Keeper on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Slytherin.**

**-Lorcan Scamander: Chaser on the Quidditch team. Sixth year Slytherin.**

**-Theodore Wisz: Beater on the Quidditch team. Seventh year Slytherin.**

**And begin!]**

* * *

Scoundrel! Chapter Six

The butterfly's wings flash in the bright sun, the shoot of thistle it currently perches on swaying precariously under its weight. Eyes wide, I crouch some feet away, entranced as the delicate creature picked its way up the thistle. It turns this way and that, but never seems satisfied enough to settle in.

"Wit you up t', weanie?" At the sound of the rough, low voice, the butterfly immediately takes off, climbing high into the sky. I follow the path of its flight until I can't see it anymore.

"Da-a," I complain, drawing out the vowel to express my irritation. "Yeh dinnae haff to scare it aff!" I stand up grumpily, dust off my knees and crane my head to glare at him; I only reach his waist. I clutch a battered toy broomstick in one grubby hand.

"Naw need to be dallyin' wit butterflies, Alli," Da scolds. "Come on, then. Let's haff us a fling, aye? Wit baw wil I' be today?" He kneels by the small wooden crate at his feet and points toward one small golden globe.

I shake my head vigorously. "Ah dinnae like that un, Da. Tha' un's no' for me."

Da chuckles. "Nah, me either. Wit about there?" He gestures to two twin struggling spheres of iron.

I shake my head again.

He smiles. His face, contorted by one long, raised scar that stretches from temple to jaw, twists in a gruesome parody of pride. "The Quaffle, then. Tha's my girrel." He stoops to unfasten the straps around the red-stained ball. I avert my eyes when he pauses to catch his breath, one hand going involuntarily to one disfigured knee.

"Da! Ma says sooper's ready!" April comes across the field of green, long blonde hair and summer dress flowing freely in her wake. She moves to stand next to our father. "She says no' Quiddeetch until evereything's eaten."

Da winks at me and I beam at the inclusion. "Well, if yer ma says so, ah suppose we'd best comply."

April begins to lead the way back to the small cottage that was our home, but stops suddenly when that same butterfly flits across her path. She freezes and curls her lip in disgust at its brilliant yellow and black coloring, then gives a little scream when it flies in her face. "Geroff me, geroff me!" she yells, arms wind-milling.

"Dinnae be such a jessie, April," I say snidely.

My father's jaw drops. "Allison Mae! Where did you lear-en tha' wor-ed?"

I point silently at April, who is still flailing to get away from the butterfly. I'm sure the butterfly just wants to get away from April.

Da sighs. The expulsion of air from his lungs suddenly makes him seem far older than he really is. "Dae'n use i' anymore-ah, aye-right? We all haff our-ah fear-ahs. Her-ah, April." He catches April's hands in his own, allowing the butterfly to escape.

* * *

"Hm…" I said, examining my appearance in the mirror. I glanced toward Elli, who was reclining lazily on her bed, reading the _Daily Prophet_. "What do you think? Hair up or down?"

She rolled onto her stomach. "Why does it matter? Have a hot date?"

I winked. "Only you."

Elli laughed. "Down. I'm always telling you, leave it down, so listen to me for once." She returned to her reading.

I quickly ran a hand through my hair before finally abandoning the mirror. I snapped a hair band on my wrist just in case.

"Look at this!" Elli said suddenly. "The Wizengamot is going to meet over whether or not to include Centaurs as 'beings'."

I snorted. "It's not going to work obviously. They've already tried it tons of times before, and the Centaurs want to be classified as 'beasts' anyway."

"Still," she mused. "The world is changing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, the world's changing, and you clearly are not," I noted. Elli was still in her pajamas. "Have you forgotten about Hogsmeade? I want to go to Honeydukes while there is still merchandise on the shelves."

"Oh, alright." She put the _Prophet _aside and stood.

"Oh, alright," I mimicked. "Who was it that was so excited when they announced the date?"

She scoffed. "Who gets excited about Hogsmeade anymore?"

_You_, I said silently. "Me," I said aloud. "Plus, Ginny Potter is going to be signing autographs at the Three Broomsticks! Isn't that just awesome?"

Elli dug in her trunk and pulled out jeans and a T-shirt. "Is she the one who wrote 'A Life Among the Muggles'?"

"No, you numpty, Ginny Potter is from the Holyhead Harpies!"

"Oh, right."

"She's only the best Chaser of the century, I can see why you might mix her up with Kevin Grabausky," I said, rolling my eyes.

Elli put her hands on her hips, fully dressed. "Why are we wasting time talking about this? I thought you said you wanted to go to Honeydukes."

I raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to put your coat on? It's October. And this is Hogsmeade. _Which is above the snow line._"

She shrugged. "I'll live." She walked past me out the dorm.

"Okay, but don't go making for my coat when you freeze your arse off," I said, following her. "It's not like you have much fat to burn."

* * *

"Ah! It's freezing!" Elli exclaimed as soon when we'd disembarked from the carriage.

I raised my eyes to the heavens and silently pleaded for mercy. Then I extracted an extra coat from my charmed purse and held it out to my stupid friend. She took one look at it and shook her head. "I swear Elli, even if I have to force your skinny arms through the sleeves you are going to wear this coat."

"Fine," she relented, taking the coat.

We popped into Honeydukes first, where I hovered between Sugar Quills and Acid Pops for ten minutes before selecting one of each.

"Oh, don't buy so many, Gertrude, you'll get fatter!" exclaimed a sixth-year Ravenclaw a few aisles over. "If you ever want to get as fit as me, you're going to have to cut down on those."

Elli rolled her eyes as Julianne Bradley came into view, flanked by her goons Gertrude Cross and Valerie Mason. Blonde, curvy and undeniably pretty, everyone's eyes involuntarily followed Julianne, and she knew it. And flaunted it often.

"It's only a couple of Chocolate Frogs," said Gertrude, looking miserable.

"And she's not even fat!" Elli whispered hotly to me. But while her eyes were busy glaring at Julianne, I dropped the candies I'd picked up back into their respective boxes.

"Let's go," I muttered, feeling a bit sick and hating myself for eying Julianne's figure with some jealousy as she passed by.

"What? Oh, okay." Bemused, Elli followed me outside.

"Where do you want to go next?" I said, blinking rapidly.

"How about—oh, ooh," she stopped suddenly, her eyes fixed on something just over my shoulder. "You know what, I actually just remembered something that I have to do. Let's meet up later, 'kay?"

Bewildered, I stared at her back as she left. "Thanks," I muttered, scuffing the edge of my shoe on the pavement. I glanced quickly around at the chattering current of students surrounding me; face growing hot, I ducked into Tomes and Scrolls so I didn't become that awkward girl who just got ditched by her friend.

I'd only been perusing the dusty shelves of the halfway-abandoned shop for ten minutes before I came face to face with none other than Mr. James Potter.

"Oh, hello, Wood," said James, face slack with surprise.

"Hello," I replied in a high-pitched voice. My gaze slid to the side as I recalled last night's adventure in the Prefect's bathroom. I coughed and mentally shooed the image of a naked Potter away. "What are you doing here?"

"Just, ah, browsing," he said, ruffling his hair.

"You realize this is a _bookshop_, right?" I looked at him suspiciously. Some of my hair fell annoyingly into my face with the motion and I swiped it angrily to the side with a flick of my fingers.

James blinked and assumed an expression of pure affront. "I do read, you know," he informed me.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Okay, fine. I'm hiding from Fred's fan club," James sighed.

"Weasley has a fan club?" I said.

"It's full of all the girl's he's ever dated and all the ones who want to date him," he explained. "Recently he's been less… promiscuous, and they want to know why."

"And they're bothering you for answers," I finished. "I'm… sorry for your troubles?"

"Do you know what it's like," James began suddenly, acquiring a slightly crazed look, "constantly being followed by girls upon girls upon girls who aren't even interested in you? _They have no boundaries_."

"Um, no," I said, backing up a step. "No, my life is quite normal."

"Ah, normal," he sighed. "I miss that."

"Has your life ever been normal?" I asked.

"Well, no," he admitted. "But there were times… well, it was only a dream. An illusion. And it won't do to dwell on dreams."

Something in his eyes, something so incredibly—but I can't explain it.

It made my heart ache.

"When I was 14," I started, swallowing painfully, "my father and sister had a huge row. I thought it would never end, but it did, and my sister left home for good. My father locked himself in his study and refused to come out for days, and my mother cried herself to sleep every night. My brother would sneak into my room after everyone had gone to bed so he didn't have to be alone."

I rubbed my jaw absentmindedly, lost in the memory. "One night I dreamed that she had come back home. When I woke up, I heard a noise downstairs in the kitchen, and I rushed down, taking the steps two at a time. But it was only the neighbor's cat, wandering the night in search of food. He'd gotten in through the open window.

"For one beautiful, brilliant moment, I believed that she'd really come back, that everything was going to be okay again. Isn't it strange, how we stack all of our hopes and dreams on top of each other, and we're surprised when it all falls down like a house of cards. But the kitchen was empty, and so was my dream."

I paused. "I got a postcard from her yesterday. She wrote to say that's she's fine, how am I, she got that job in Muggle Relations like she's always wanted, how's Ma, how's Sam, but not once did she mention Da. I guess she still hasn't forgiven him." I stopped, because I didn't know what else to say.

After a while, James broke the silence. "Have you? Forgiven him, I mean."

I smiled slightly. "We're family. We're supposed to forgive each other." I felt my mouth go slack. "But I haven't. I can't."

More silence. "I'm sorry," he said, "but I've been trying to think of something equally heartrending that I might share with you as exchange for what you've just told me, but honestly, I got nothing."

He looked so sincerely apologetic that I started to laugh, holding on to one decrepit bookshelf for support. James smiled cautiously before breaking out into soft chuckles as well.

"That's alright," I said, giggling. "I'm sorry for springing such a somber mood on you with no warning. I've no idea what came over me."

"I just have that effect on people," he joked, leaning back. The dim light from overhead glinted on his glasses, perched as always on top of his head.

I reached out with one hand. "Why," I said, touching the black rectangular frames lightly with my fingertips, "are you always not wearing your glasses properly?"

"Glasses are important to Potter males' images," he told me. "Unfortunately, my eyes aren't really bad enough to elicit true prescription, these are just for… reading…" His voice faltered as his gaze met mine.

My breath hitched. We were really quite close at this point, my face only inches away from his. Funny, I'd never noticed, but his eyes, luminous in such proximity, were flecked with the tiniest spots of gold—really quite mesmerizing, the way they flickered in the light—

"Potatoes," I blurted out.

James drew back. "I beg your pardon?"

"Um, potatoes," I hedged. "Don't you just love them?"

Why am I in Ravenclaw. Someone needs to fire that stupid Hat.

He ducked his head, and I had the faint suspicion that he was hiding a smile. "Yes," he exhaled. "Mashed potatoes are the best."

"Aren't they just," I said. We stood there awkwardly for a moment. I smoothed the front of my sweater. "I should, uh, really get going."

"Yeah. Yeah, the fan girls will have left by now," said James, ruffling his hair yet again and revealing the tops of his scarlet ears.

We both made for the door at the same time. "Oh, please, go ahead," I said, not meeting his gaze.

"Ladies first," he ordered.

"If you insist," I said, and got the hell out of there.

It was only when I'd collapsed in the Ravenclaw common room that I remembered I'd forgotten to get Ginny Potter's autograph. "Damn it!"

* * *

_Merfolk differ widely in coloration, sharing the distinctive characteristics of fish of their region. Male merfolk, known as merman, are rare and solitary creatures except during the mating season. They can easily be distinguished from the mermaids by their larger size. As with any culture, merfolk leave behind a significant amount of… [1]_

I closed the book with a frustrated slap that reverberated around the silent, near-empty library. Then with a resigned sort of attitude I reopened the dusty volume.

_As certain species of tropical fish, merfolk may be capable of physical transformation called protogyny, whereby a female mermaid can change herself physically into a male…_

Sweet Merlin. If humans did that… I entertained myself for a good five minutes on the possibilities.

"Men are stupid," I thought aloud. The world would be a better place without them.

"I beg your pardon?" Fred Weasley had been peering over my shoulder and was now staring at me in polite shock.

"Oh, well, by men I meant… well obviously that generalization can't apply to your, you're… Wait, why the hell am I defending myself to you?" I finished clumsily, glaring.

He raised his hands in mock self-defense. "Merely just standing up for my own gender. Surely we can't be all that bad." He grinned cheekily.

My glare intensified. Those pearly whites ain't gonna fool me. "Why are you spying on me? Did Potter ask you to?" I thought of my Quidditch notes, hidden in the bag beneath my feet.

He put a hand on his heart. "Me? Spying? I am insulted, truly and most deeply. Fair lady, forgive me, if I do not look kindly upon this incident."

Aristotle's left fuzzy slipper. I rolled my eyes. "Good sir, if thou art truly of the noble sort, pray leave me to suffer penance in sweet solitude."

Fred's smirk only widened. "Ah, but sweetness, for sweetness' sake, is an opposing force to any true purpose of self-reparation," he retaliated, fluttering his eyelashes for full effect.

"Merlin," I breathed, suddenly distracted. I caught Fred's chin with one hand and, ignoring his exclamations of surprise and protest, turned his head this way and that to get a better look. "How long _are_ your eyelashes? That is _obscene_. And impossibly improbable. They can't be natural."

"Um, if you don't mind—"

"Did you use a Hair Extension Charm on your _eyelashes_? Not only are men stupid but desperate and also vain, to boot."

"If you could just—"

"That is really dangerous! You could poke your _eye_ out! Or your eyelashes could grow so long that you blind yourself!"

"_Enough_!" Fred barked, ripping his face from my grip. He straightened his tie with a huff and pulled his robes back into appropriate positions. "I admit, I underestimated you. You are a devious opponent. Until we meet again." He withdrew from his robes a small pouch and stuck his hand inside. Suddenly the entire library became pitch-black; several people screamed; and when the air became clear again, Fred was gone.

"Dramatic exit much?" I said. I counted to ten, cast a furtive glance around the library, then ducked under the table to check the contents of my bag. Thankfully my notes were still present and intact.

So if not for the upper hand on my obviously superior Quidditch intellect, why was Weasley, Potter's right hand man, keeping an eye on me?

I wonder if it had anything to do with potatoes.

* * *

[1] Taken from Arthur Spiderwick's Field Guide to the Fantastical World Around You, by T. DiTerlizzi and H. Black.

* * *

**[A/N: Aaaaand I'm back! Again. Please don't hate me. Hey, we're all one big Harry Potter family and we love each other, right...?]**


End file.
